Word Perfect
by peroxidepest17
Summary: Yuki searches for the right words.


**Title:** Word Perfect  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Universe:** Gravitation  
**Rating:** PG-13 (Some shounen-ai themes. Like you expected anything else)  
**Feedback:** (yes!)**  
Pairing:** YukixShuichi  
**Spoilers:** Nope  
**Summary:** Yuki searches for the right words.  
**Time:** 25 mins (no edits)  
**Word Count:** 1,214  
**A/N:** I have obviously been hit and beat with the crack!fluff stick tonight. Seriously, this story took me like, 5 minutes to think up in my head and around 20 to get on the page. And I was worried I wouldn't be able to finish since I was on Jenny's comp while she's out… XD Hopefully it doesn't show or anything. --;;  
**Dedication:** , because she encouraged me to write it even though I'm not on my own comp and was worried about time.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine… but I love them like they are!  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

Yuki Eiri stared intently at the last sentence he had typed.

He'd been doing it for at least 20 minutes now, had erased, rewritten, reformatted, reworded, recycled, rerouted, re-everythinged the blasted thing in every possible way, trying to find some way around or through it, to find a formula that worked with the dialogue he'd cornered himself with.

It was stupid really. Just one of those situations that wasn't really crucial to the plot, but in the end, was important to the characterization. He wasn't really quite sure how to proceed from there.

Maybe it was the fact that the line that was to follow the one he'd last written was going to be said by a character he'd created that was… well, nothing like him at all.

It was a little sad, but he had to admit that he was having a bit of trouble getting into the main male romantic interest's head.

And he'd created the stupid bastard too.

Puffing irritably on a cigarette, the author leaned back in his swivel chair and glowered thoughtfully at the screen, his face illuminated by the glow of computer, his scowl dramatically shadowed by the contrastingly pitch-black office.

_"What would you do if I were to die?"_

An insignificant bit of dialogue in the main scheme of things, really, but still…something that his writer's instinct was telling him he had to include.

He stared at it some more.

The cursor blinked back at him vacantly.

He doused his cigarette and stood up.

He couldn't do this. Granted, he'd created the character. In the long run it was at least partially his fault for making a character in such a way that he was almost unfathomable to even the man who had created him. However, while Yuki was willing to shoulder at least half of the blame, he was almost one hundred percent certain as to where the other half should be piled.

Strolling purposefully out of the darkened office, he went in search of an answer.

He found it sitting in the living room, sprawled out on the couch in one of those sinfully innocent methods of repose that all pop-stars seemed to have mastered by some miracle of flexibility. It was doodling on a yellow legal pad instead of writing the single that was due tomorrow morning while humming old fan favorites of its mentally retarded, yet somehow, musically brilliant rival-slash-idol.

"Hey brat, I've got a question for you."

Shuichi paused mid-doodle to blink up at the blonde author. "Yuki?"

Eiri crossed his arms and looked down intently at the diminutive singer.

"What would you do if I were to die?"

It took a second to register. First, Shuichi blinked. A moment later, dropped his pencil. Opened his mouth and, "OH MY GOD YUKI…"

"I'm not going to die, you idiot," the writer hastily cut in, heading off the over-reaction freak show while it was still in it's more easily quelled beginning-shock stages. "I'm just asking."

The pink-haired boy calmed considerably. "Oh. God, don't scare me like that… you can be such a jerk! Do you know how much that…"

Too tired to deal with histrionics tonight, Yuki lifted his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a notorious bad, bad man. Will you answer the damn question?"

The younger boy pouted. "I don't want to think about you dying."

"God you're useless. It's for one of my books, okay?"

Shuichi's brow furrowed. "You need to write happier books."

"For the love of… why do you have to be so dumb about everything? It was just a hypothetical question."

"Okay, sheesh…" Shuichi, knowing when to just do as Yuki asked when he took a certain tone, looked suitably thoughtful. "Well, I suppose I'd die too."

Yuki groaned. "That was the stupidest possible answer I could have ever hoped for."

Shuichi glowered cutely back at him. "Well you asked me! That's the first thing I could think of! And it's really true, too!"

"You need less-stupid impulses," Yuki suggested, more annoyed with himself for thinking Shuichi could have been of any help than at his slightly off-balance lover's off-balance-ness.

"Well fine! If that's such a bad answer, what would _you_ do if _I_ died?" Shuichi challenged, tone daring the blonde to answer cruelly for the sake of answering cruelly.

Yuki had gotten enough of the "I won't sleep with you for like, a week, okay, maybe three days" glare in the past to know it when he saw it.

He weighed his options.

"…I'd say something nice at your funeral, I guess."

Shuichi crossed his arms and looked sufficiently put out. "God, you're such an asshole!"

"It was the first thing that came to my head?"

The younger boy sniffed and crossed his arms. "Get less asshole-y impulses," he parroted melodramatically.

Yuki had had far too little sleep in the past four days to be able to put up with Shuichi's exorbitantly high-maintenance level right now. He'd just wanted a goddamn answer. Especially since it was partially the singer's fault he was in this bind any way. He'd never written optimistic romances before meeting the idiot, after all. "Forget I asked. I'm going back to work." The blonde made to turn around and trudge back to what Shuichi called his dark, dank hole of grumpiness.

"Wait…Yuki! Really…what would you do if I died?" Shuichi pressed, volume raising several notches as he called after the writer.

Yuki blinked, turned mid-step to regard his boyfriend's suddenly serious expression. "You really want to know?"

The boy nodded earnestly.

Seeing that Shuichi really wasn't playing around at the moment, Eiri sighed, ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Honestly said, "Idiot… of course I'd live."

Shuichi relaxed, and the line of his mouth softened into a gentle smile. "Good."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Yuki shoved his hands into his pockets and turned his back on the singer again. "Now quit jacking around and get some work done, would you? I don't want to have to clean out the blood stains when that crazy gaijin manager of yours shoots you in the head for being a lazy ass." He headed back to his office.

"I love you tooooo, Yuki!"

Eiri made a face and shut the door firmly behind him, though he neglected to lock it this time.

The room was still illuminated by the glow of his computer.

He hadn't even been gone long enough for the screensaver to click in.

Sitting down, Yuki jiggled the mouse in a preemptive strike against any oncoming blank screens and let his eyes wander back to the same spot his cursor had been blinking back at him from for the last…25 minutes.

He took a deep breath, and fingers to keys, began typing again.

_"What would I do if you were to die? Of course, I'd die too…"_

He paused.

Hit backspace and held it for a second or two. Stared at the screen for a little bit longer.

Grimaced. "Fuck it."

_"What would you do if I were to die?"_

_"Well…I suppose I'd have to find a new girlfriend."_

_"You…you asshole!"_

_"What? You wouldn't want me to be lonely forever, would you?"_

_"God, I hate you!"_

Yuki grinned and hit save.

Perfect.

**END **


End file.
